


The Clincher

by justheretobreakthings



Series: Gentron: Legendary Friendships 2020 [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Branding, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Hugs, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Mind Control, Protective Allura (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretobreakthings/pseuds/justheretobreakthings
Summary: “You are being deceived. One of your paladins is an enemy, who has taken up the mantle of paladin by duplicitous means and will surely betray your cause.”“What do you mean?”“Your red paladin. He is… he is Galra.”
Relationships: Allura & Keith (Voltron)
Series: Gentron: Legendary Friendships 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863199
Comments: 24
Kudos: 318
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gentronweek





	The Clincher

“They truly are magnificent creatures,” a voice murmured beside Allura, and she turned to smile at the sight of Aivu, the Chancellor of Anvurn, as she sidled up beside Allura, watching as the paladins walked the gathered military generals through the hangar now housing the Lions of Voltron. “A sight to behold.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Allura replied. “My father, you know, led the creation and development of the Lions. A blend of engineering methodologies brought in from a variety of planets, all building off a foundation of Altean alchemy. I’m afraid my knowledge of the mechanical side of their workings is a tad lacking, but as for the magic, well - that’s always been my specialty. You enjoyed the show they put on, I take it?” As much as certain paladins would complain about having to perform air shows for potential allies, there was no denying that they were an effective recruitment tool.

“Oh, quite. Almost as much as my generals did. Apologies if they talk your paladins’ ears off with questions.”

Allura laughed lightly. “Oh, no apologies necessary, I’m sure they’re just as happy to show off the Lions as I am.”

“From a military standpoint, an alliance with your team certainly seems quite viable,” Aivu said with a nod. “Now, you did say in your initial missive that you were also interested in Anvurn’s advances in theurgical research?”

“Absolutely,” Allura said. “I certainly cannot understate the value that any form of magic could have for our us against the Galra. In fact, you cannot imagine my relief when I discovered Anvurn was still out of the Empire’s grasp. I know that it’s been a long time, and what with Altea no longer… with Altea having been…”

“I know,” Aivu said grimly. “Rest assured though, we have not forgotten that Altean alchemy is what gave us our own start in alchemy research. The scale of our studies is still limited; I’m afraid magical abilities are still much rarer in Anvurnians than it was in Alteans, and they manifest quite differently, but we’ve still had quite a bit of time to assemble an impressive body of research over the years. Our mages may number few, but I’m proud to say they are highly skilled.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’d be happy to give you a quick tour of our alchemical labs. Hmm.” Aivu looked thoughtfully across the hangar toward the paladins. “I usually only guide one person through a tour at a time; keeps the invading energies and auras to a minimum, less disruptive for the mages who are in study. I can see about arranging to take each of the paladins through in turn, if some are willing to wait until after the fellowship gathering tonight or before the meeting with our fiscal council tomorrow morning…”

“No need,” Allura said. “The other paladins are, ah, not quite so informed or interested in magical studies as I am. Their home planet, you see, has no magical properties. It doesn’t affect their abilities as pilots or fighters, though, I assure you. It simply means that area of our alliance will be my specialty. I’d love a tour, if you’re offering. I think the others will be a bit occupied with your generals for a while.”

“Wonderful. I’m ready whenever you are.”

With a nod toward Aivu, Allura hurried off to let Shiro know where she was going – and felt a bit relieved that she was getting this time with Aivu rather than with the generals, since as she approached five of them were trying to ask questions at once; Shiro looked almost dizzy and Keith had that thin-lipped expression on his face that he always got when he was trying extra hard not to shout at people to shut up and give him just a single minute of peace and quiet – before returning and allowing Aivu to lead her away from the hangar. She was guided deep into the heart of the palace, past meeting rooms and cabinets and an armory, then down sweeping flights of stairs below the ground and into the stony undercroft, where the air was rather chillier and staler but the corridors were kept well polished and artificially lit to stave off any mustiness.

At one turn, Allura paused, gazing down a corridor whose length was occupied by a thick, glassy wall, looking into a long row of small and mainly unfurnished chambers, each housed by a single person and lined with a wavering glow that indicated the presence of a force field. It was dimmer than the same such area in the Castle of Lions, but Allura could still easily recognize it as the palace’s guardhouse.

Aivu ushered her along, pulling her down a corridor that branched away from the cells and ended at the entrance to the mage lab, and Allura’s eyes lit up as they entered. The lab was enormous, easily as large as the hangar where the Lions were being kept, with a vaulted ceiling that stretched high enough that surely not even half the lab was below ground. The walls were lined with information, shelves of old books and tomes standing between much newer computers and holoscreens. Stations cropped up haphazardly throughout the lab, each emitting their own colors and lights and sounds and smells, from concoctions simmering over low flames like soups, to plants filling glowing tanks, to enormous gray machines that let out electronic whirs as they passed, displaying a fast-moving stream of multicolored data on screens beside them.

They moved through the lab, Aivu explaining the generalities of the different projects they passed, and while Allura listened, her attention was also grabbed by the sight of the mages themselves moving about the lab or hovering over workstations. Each of them was nigh identical save for some slight variation in height and build. All wore the same set of mage’s robes, a dark, silky deep green lined with gold at the hem, that billowed at their feet as if the hems were light as air, and with sleeves that dangled nearly as low, overall giving the effect of being draped in curtains.

Far stranger, though, were the faces of the mages – or rather, the lack thereof. Every head was stark-white, smooth and bare, and while there were curves and dips on their faces where the features should have been, the space was instead completely blank. As though someone had started to sculpt their heads, but had only just started to shape them before abandoning the project.

It was an unsettling appearance, to be sure, and Aivu must have caught Allura staring, because she stopped her explanation of the purposes of one of the machines to gesture toward a passing mage. “They have faces, I should let you know,” she said. “It’s fabric. Skin-tight, but perfectly breathable. They wear it over any part of themselves that can be exposed to sensation, you see. Head, hands, feet. The less sensory input they receive from mundane sources, the stronger their abilities to sense and work with magic.”

“That works?” Allura said.

“Quite well,” Aivu replied. “If they’re trained up from the start of their alchemical training with the coverings, a skilled mage can hone their magical senses to the level of an Altean alchemist of old. It also gives them the ability to form strong mental connections to the elements they work with.”

“Impressive,” Allura said.

“We actually have data collected on the effects of sensory deprivation on Anvurnian magical abilities, if you’d like to take a look, although I’m not sure that the studies would be of any relevance to any project you and your team are interested in.”

“That’s all right. I think I’m most keen in looking into that project you mentioned on magical energy conversion? I could actually facilitate a corroboration with some scientists on Olkarion.”

“Oh, that would certainly be – ” Aivu paused as one of the mages who had been passing by stopped to rest a hand on Aivu’s shoulder. Aivu turned curiously toward the mage’s blank face before nodding and turning back to Allura. “Would you be all right, Princess, if a couple of my mages came back up to the hangar with us to see the Lions? Word’s gotten around about the airshow they put on for my generals, it seems.”

“Of course,” Allura said. “Although, er, would they actually be able to, er… _see_ the Lions?” She peered uncertainly at the blank space on the mage’s face where eyes should have been.

Aivu let out a light laugh. “Not to worry, magic is their eyes and ears. They can see just fine. Shall we finish up the tour?”

They wrapped up the remainder of the lab tour quickly, and as they made to leave, three mages fell into line behind them. They moved at practically a glide, no footsteps echoing off the walls the way Allura’s and Aivu’s did as they walked down the corridor. Allura tried not to appear uneasy about their surreal presence, and made sure to focus her attention elsewhere.

“I was wondering,” she said as they reached the turn at the end of the corridor. “Is there a particular reason your mages’ place of study is so close to your prison?” She nodded toward the long window as they approached. “They just seem like they’d be very different parts of your palace’s work. Or is the location just a coincidence?”

“Well spotted,” Aivu said. “Our mages actually provide a great deal of assistance with incarceration of prisoners. Magic can be a very useful security tool.”

“Ah,” Allura said. She peered through the glass to the cells’ entrances. “So the force fields there are magic?”

“Not those, no, but we do use magic for surveillance and to be alerted of unrest within the cells. Additionally, mages who are particularly skilled in mental magic can assist in keeping prisoners cooperative and extracting information.”

Allura frowned at that, something tugging at her gut that she couldn’t quite identify but that she knew wasn’t good. Haggar and her druids had more than demonstrated the dangers of getting into people’s minds and memories with magic. Criminals or not, no one deserved to have their mind violated in such a way. “I must admit,” she said, slowly and cautiously, trying to sound stern but not accusatory, “I don’t much like the idea of magic being used to invade minds or alter behaviors in such a manner.”

“Oh, I believe you misunderstand,” Aivu said. “I assure you there is no ethical dilemma to worry about. The effects my mages have on prisoners is far from brainwashing. It’s more altering their emotional state. For example, with interrogation, a mage cannot actually delve into a prisoner’s mind and dig through their thoughts to find what they want. What they _can_ do is make the prisoner feel at ease and off their guard, more willing to share what they know. Or if there is a prisoner who is acting rebellious and resistant, a mage can give them a sense of hopelessness, drain the fight from them a bit. We aren’t capable of any permanent alterations to anyone, not to memory or mental state or anything of the sort.”

“Still, it just seems a little – ”

“It’s the job of any prison to keep those who are incarcerated in a state of mind that prevents them from doing harm or being tempted to repeat offenses. Magic is simply a shortcut to get them there.”

“I… suppose,” Allura said. She focused her attention on the occupants of the cells. Admittedly, none of them looked like they were suffering the ill effects of brainwashing or other mental torture. She had seen prisoners of the Galra empire before who’d been altered by druid magic; some seemed in a constant state of fear and alert, others seemed only to be empty shells. The prisoners here, though, appeared to have awareness, just looked forlorn or bored. A few pairs of eyes had turned to her when they noticed Allura watching, some appearing anxious about the scrutiny, others glaring. At a glance, their minds seemed intact.

Something else caught her eye, though, and she lifted her finger to point. “What exactly is that mark?” she asked, lifting her finger to point to one of the prisoners. Crawling up his neck and along his jaw from below the collar of his garb in a deep red, blackened at the edges, a series of lines and angles jutted out and curled in an abstract pattern that reminded Allura of some of the alchemical sigils that had been displayed on boards and screens in the lab, although she didn’t recognize this one. “That’s not any sort of spell, is it?”

“No, no, it’s purely symbolic,” Aivu said, and her smile faded, face tightening, as she looked through the window too. “A brand. It was designed by my mages, though. Based on some of their symbols for poisons. That’s used to designate prisoners who are serving life sentences here. Those who’ve committed crimes such as murder, or treason. It ensures they cannot hide their crime, and in the unlikely event they’re ever able to escape imprisonment, they cannot make any attempt to blend back into society. Essentially, it denotes that they’ve done something unforgivable.”

“I – I see.”

“That one there,” Aivu said grimly, nodding toward the prisoner Allura was watching, “Trapped his family in their home before burning it down. Not exactly the sort of person you’d want walking free, wouldn’t you say?”

Allura swallowed. “That’s true.”

“Come now, Princess.” Aivu ushered her away. “We’re here for Voltron and our alliance, yes? No need to damper your mood over criminal justice. Ought to be getting back to your team; by now my generals may just have run out of questions to bother your paladins with.”

“Right.” Allura shook her head as she allowed herself to be led away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get distracted.”

“Think nothing of it. I’d much rather you ask questions and take an interest in how things are done on Anvurn if we’re going to be allying with you. The more we know about each other, the better we can build up our trust.”

“Well, any questions you have about Voltron, you can feel free to ask as well.”

“Between all that I expect my generals have been asking in your absence, and the amount of questions I’m sure the chancellery will be bombarding you with tomorrow, I think we’ll end up with enough answers to tide us over for decaphoebs.”

Allura laughed, and they continued in amiable silence, the mood lightening as the distance grew from the prison cells and they neared the hangar once more.

The paladins, it seemed, were just wrapping up their presentation of the Lions to the military representatives as Allura returned, and after Aivu introduced the mages who had joined them, Shiro steered them through the hangar to give them the bullet points. His voice was starting to sound like it was drying out, no doubt from having to present to and field questions from those generals for such a long time, but thankfully the mages had no questions of their own, and in fact showed no reaction at all as they looked over the Lions – or, whatever the mages’ eyeless equivalent of ‘looking over’ the Lions was.

The rest of the team hung back as Shiro talked with the mages, Aivu tagging along, and Lance tapped Allura on the shoulder once they were further down the hangar. “Hey, uh,” he said softly, “Are those mage things going to be sticking around long? Like, they won’t be going to the party with us, right?”

“First of all,” Allura hissed, “They’re _people,_ not things, Lance. Secondly, it’s a fellowship gathering, not a party. There won’t be any music or drinks or anything, just mingling, introducing ourselves to the Anvurnian representatives.”

“What? You’re kidding.”

“What made you think there was going to be a party?”

“Well, Pidge said – aaaand I just remembered how much Pidge likes lying, so never mind. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“I think they’re just here to see the Lions, and then they’ll be returning to their work, but I’m not certain. They, er, didn’t say.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t think so.” Lance watched them with a scrunched brow. “They’re kinda like living mannequins, aren’t they? It’s kinda creepy.”

“Don’t be disrespectful, Lance. It’s a method to heighten their magical senses.”

“Wait, so they do have faces in there somewhere?”

“Presumably.”

“Huh. I don’t know if that makes it more or less creepy.”

Allura shushed him with a glare as Shiro started back toward the rest of the group, Aivu and the mages in tow. “They’re fascinating machines,” Aivu said, beaming as she rejoined Allura. “Utterly _fascinating_. I understand the need to keep some facets of their construction classified, but if ever in the future you are looking to recreate or add to your Voltron, please do consider letting Anvurn be involved in the project. It would be an honor and a delight.”

“Noted,” Allura said, returning the smile. “For the time being, though, what’s next on the agenda?”

“Our fellowship gathering is scheduled to start shortly, although I don’t know that it’s all prepared quite yet. Would you like me to show your team our legislative chambers in the meantime? Nothing is in session at the moment, but the architecture and the interior design work is marvelous, if I do say so myself.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Allura answered, ignoring the grimaces the paladins were sending her way in response to such a boring proposition. Aivu didn’t seem to notice their lack of enthusiasm, though, since her smile only widened as she beckoned them along into the corridors.

The chancellor dove right into her speech about the legislative chambers, rattling off historical facts and dates about pictures hung on the corridors they passed, with a practiced ease that told Allura that she probably gave this particular tour awfully frequently to have everything memorized so precisely. She nodded along, trying to seem interested, which wasn’t an easy task considering the previous tour Aivu had just given her was much more interesting.

She glanced back occasionally at the other paladins, noting after the first time she did that, curiously, the mages had opted to follow the group here as well. Hunk and Shiro both seemed to be ignoring them well enough, following Allura’s lead in feigning interest in the history lecture, but Keith kept glancing uneasily over his shoulder at them, and Lance wasn’t even trying to hide his distraction, and kept whispering to Pidge about, just loudly enough that Allura could catch the words.

“Do you think they really can see us, or are they faking?” he asked.

“Guess that will just be one of life’s great mysteries,” Pidge replied, rolling her eyes.

“There’s gotta be some way to tell,” Lance whispered. “Like, look, if I do this – ” As he walked he lifted his hand and waved it in front of the face of the nearest mage. “Maybe there’s some twitch in the – ” He was cut off as the mage lifted a white-gloved hand to smack his arm away, and Pidge turned her laugh into a cough as Aivu paused her lecture to cast a scolding gaze in their direction.

Fortunately it was enough to get them to behave for the rest of the tour, and they managed to wrap up and make their way to the banquet hall set up for the fellowship gathering with none of the paladins embarrassing the team any further, which Allura counted as a win.

The gathering itself wasn’t much to speak of. Primarily, its purpose seemed to be to simply have the paladins introduce themselves and make small talk to various members of the Anvurnian government, some of whom were slated to be joining the negotiation meeting tomorrow, others who just wanted the chance to meet the famed defenders of the universe.

No music, a limited food selection, and no alcoholic beverages, just talking and selling the best image of Voltron she could to these people. And while it wasn’t exactly the most exciting way to pass an evening, Allura was in her element. She was as much a skilled conversationalist as any member of Altean royalty, and throughout the evening as she greeted the various officials and told them all they need to know about Voltron, listening to their own descriptions of Anvurn in return and asking all the right questions to be as engaging as possible, she was certain she ensured that the first impression Anvurn got of the Voltron team was a good one. Or at least, she was pretty sure she’d been able to undo any damage caused by Lance’s failed flirtations, Keith’s non-existent conversation skills, and Pidge’s lack of a verbal filter.

All in all, she was prepared to chalk the gathering up as a success, up until, after Allura broke away to take a few minutes at the refreshments table and try out one of the Anvurnian appetizers on display – it was terribly bland, she decided, but surprisingly filling – she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Aivu, leaning in toward her with a grim expression on her face.

“Princess,” the chancellor said in a low voice, “If I could, may I have a moment to speak to you in private? Away from my colleagues and your paladins?”

Allura frowned, but she nodded and let Aivu lead her away from the gathering hall and into a side chamber. A mage was there waiting, and Allura wasn’t sure if this was one of the mages who had been following the group earlier, or if it was a new one. With that tight covering over their heads and the matching clothes, it was difficult to tell them apart.

Aivu ensured that the door had been closed properly behind them, blocking off the sounds from the gathering hall, before turning around to face Allura, her face grim. “Princess,” she said. “I’m afraid I bring some distressing news.”

Allura felt her heartbeat speed as she looked between Aivu and the mage’s featureless face. Distressing news… was there something going wrong with the planet’s magic? Had some event occurred that would interfere with Anvurn’s alliance with Voltron? “What is it?” she asked.

“Earlier, as I was giving you and your team the palatial tour, my mages were able to examine your paladins.”

Allura’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said their mental magic was only used against enemies who sought to cause Anvurn harm.”

“For any magic that requires entering and interfering with the mind, yes,” Aivu said, “We are quite strict in ensuring that their magic is used only in the most ethical ways. However, a well-trained mage is able to feel a sense of a person, an aura, that lets them detect certain aspects of them. Their identity, their character. It cannot be helped, and they cannot stop it, any more than you would cannot stop being able to feel heat or cold.”

“I… suppose that makes sense…” Allura said slowly.

“Believe me, princess, you will be glad that my mage was able to do so.” Aivu leaned in closer to Allura, as if even in the privacy of the room and with the security of the mage at her side she didn’t want to risk being overheard. “You are being deceived. One of your paladins is an enemy, who has taken up the mantle of paladin by duplicitous means and will surely betray your cause.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your red paladin. He is… he is _Galra_.” Aivu let out a trembling breath. “I didn’t want to believe it myself, but my mage is certain of it. I am so sorry, princess.”

Allura let out a breath of her own as Aivu and her mage watched for her reaction. On that, she was torn, between feeling relieved that the ‘distressing news’ was something she had known and come to terms with for quite a while now, and feeling ill at ease over how distressed these Anvurnians seemed to be at the revelation. Even if she had accepted Keith’s Galra side, they may not be so easy to sway.

“I… thank you, for your concern,” she said slowly. “But I assure you, it is unwarranted. We are all aware of the red paladin’s heritage, and it does not affect his capabilities as a paladin, nor his loyalty to our cause.”

“You knew?” Aivu said, brow furrowing. “And you - you find this acceptable? To allow one of their kind to live in your home, to wield a piece of the universe’s greatest weapon? They are the enemy, princess. They are ruthless and cruel, and the only loyalty they know is to their own pursuit of power; they are hardly more than ferocious beasts, they take pleasure in seeing the demise of - ”

“I am more than aware of the atrocities of the _Empire_ ,” Allura said, narrowing her eyes, “However, the actions of the Galra in the highest seats of power do not speak to the character of the Galra people as a whole. Now, I certainly understand your feelings on the matter. You and Anvurn have been harmed greatly by the Galra, and your view of them is not without reason. I, er - ” She cleared her throat. “I confess I felt much the same when first Keith discovered his heritage. But I was wrong. I allowed a morbid history with _some_ Galra to cloud my view toward those who don’t deserve it. While admittedly Keith can be rather temperamental and rebellious, he embodies the role of Red Paladin better than anyone ever could, and has proven time and again that our trust in him is not misplaced.”

“He has not proven that to _us,”_ Aivu said. “And the trust between our planet and Voltron should be mutual. If he is trustworthy as you say, why would you hide his affiliation with the Galra Empire from us?”

Allura bristled. “I didn’t _hide_ anything, and neither did Keith. His Terran genes are dominant, so he simply does not appear Galra; he himself had not even known of his mixed status until quite recently. And we did not give you this information about him up front because it is _not relevant_. His Galra blood has absolutely no bearing on his ability to perform his duties as a paladin, nor on any aspect of our alliance with your military, your scientists, or your mages. Keith’s ‘affiliation’ with the Empire begins and ends with genetics, a matter over which he has absolutely no control.”

“But surely you can see why this revelation would cause unease to the Anvurnian people. If word got out - ”

“Then you can tell your people exactly what I told you.” Aivu still looked unconvinced, and Allura sighed. “I cannot force you to believe in the Red Paladin’s trustworthiness, but it is not a matter up for debate. If you cannot trust Keith, and if you cannot trust myself and the rest of Voltron to be able to adequately judge his character and ensure that he is the best suited for the title he holds, then I’m afraid any alliance between Voltron and Anvurn simply is not possible.”

“Princess…”

“I know my paladins, and I know what’s best for Voltron. You can ally with all of us, or none of us. You can be the one to decide whether something as inconsequential as pedigree is worth rejecting a coalition with the Defender of the Universe.”

Aivu was quiet for a long moment, lips pursed, and Allura held her breath. Finally, though, the chancellor let out a sigh and slowly nodded. “I… I apologize. I intended no disrespect toward Voltron. I will defer to your judgment on the matter. You can expect Anvurn’s cooperation.”

“Thank you,” Allura said. She kept the words toneless, although it was taking much more strength than she would have liked to admit to keep up her regal posture and stoic face rather than letting herself slump in relief. “Is there anything else you wished to speak about in private, or is that all?”

“That is all,” Aivu answered. “Again, I offer you my sincerest apologies for any offense caused. I was simply, er - well, it was a rather shocking thing to discover, you must admit.”

Part of Allura wanted to snap at her for having leapt to conclusions the way she had, but a much more rational part reminded her that she was hardly one to talk. She herself had been no better after learning of Keith’s heritage, although her own reaction had been anger rather than fear. And she had taken much longer to come around than Aivu had - although whether that was actually the Anvurnian accepting his half-Galra status or simply not wanting to lose out on the alliance, she couldn’t be sure.

Either way, it was sobering, to see that prejudice in someone else, and now being the one to defend against it.

“It - It’s forgiven,” she said after a tick’s hesitation. “Is there anything else you need to discuss in private?”

“No, no, it was only the one matter,” Aivu replied, turning back toward the door. “And now that it’s been resolved, we’ve only to enjoy the gathering for the remainder of the night.” She pulled the door open and smiled at Allura. “Find myself or one of the other chancellery members once you and your paladins are ready to turn in for the night, and we can show you to your quarters.”

“Thank you, I will be sure to do so.” Aivu gave Allura a slight bow as the princess started toward the exit, and the mage stayed behind in the chamber, standing unmoving except for their head, which turned slowly to follow Allura as she walked away. Even with lack of eyes on the mage’s face, Allura found her spine prickling with the distinct sensation of being watched up until Aivu followed her out and the door closed again.

She plastered a smile back onto her face as she rejoined the gathering, and she skirted around the edges of the room to make her way back to the refreshment table, avoiding talking to the other guests there until she had recovered her composure sufficiently to do so. This time, someone else was already at the table when she arrived, and she nodded in greeting to Keith, who was nibbling at one of the bland appetizers as he swept his gaze over the other plates on display. He didn’t seem particularly focused on them, though, and Allura suspected that him being there was more him simply wanting a break from all the socializing than being hungry. This sort of scene had never really been his forte.

“Keith,” Allura said, nodding in greeting as she selected her food. “How are you doing?”

“All right,” Keith answered with a shrug. “Bored, but, eh, could be worse.”

“Haven’t had any problems, I take it?”

“Nah.”

“No one has been giving you a hard time?”

Keith frowned, raising his brow. “No. Why would they?”

“No reason,” Allura said. “Just – just making sure everything’s going smoothly.”

“Okay…” Keith said slowly, although he still looked skeptical. “You’re kinda tense.”

Leave it to Keith to be blunt. Allura let out a breath and tried to fix her smile, making sure it spread to her eyes. “Better?”

“No,” Keith answered. He took another bite of his snack. “What did that chancellor want?”

“Hm?”

“You went off somewhere with her, started looking stressed when you came back.”

“Oh.” Allura took a bite of her own food selection to stall – this one, luckily, was much more flavorful than the one she’d sampled before, and just as rich – before answering, “Just… settling a misunderstanding. Nothing to worry about, it’s all been sorted out.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm. No need to be concerned. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Yeah, uh, you too,” Keith said as Allura hurried back into the crowd. If he wasn’t aware of any negative views toward him by anyone here on account of his heritage, there was no point in bringing it up; best to end that conversation before he ended up trying to dig further.

Although the fact that the food provided at the gathering was so rich meant that it was easy for everyone to get their fill, it also meant that it wasn’t much longer before sleepiness began to kick in among the team. Hunk was the first that Allura spotted yawning, and when seeing that made her yawn too, she flagged down the first person she saw in chancellery robes and then proceeded to collect the paladins for bed.

Once they had all been gathered, they were escorted away from the grand hall and up several flights of stairs and down enough long corridors that Allura wondered if it was an intentional tactic to wear their guests out and thus ensure a heavier sleep before they finally reached the guest wing and were pointed to their assigned rooms. The each had their own rooms, for which Allura was grateful - humans, she had learned from the paladins’ habits of snoring and mumbling and tossing and turning, were very loud sleepers - and sleepwear had been provided, draped over the side of the bed next to the nightstand bearing a water pitcher and a clock that displayed the Anvurnian system of timekeeping, which was indecipherable to Allura.

She changed into the nightdress - it was a little big on her, but the Anvurnians hadn’t asked the paladins about their sizes and measurements beforehand, so this was probably just the best guess of whoever had left it for her - and wasted no time extinguishing the light and climbing into bed. In the next room, Lance was singing to himself, probably one of those songs that he listened to in his headphones every night. A knock interrupted him, followed by Keith shouting at him to keep it down. Allura couldn’t quite make out Lance’s reply, but since Shiro’s voice joined in to chide him for his language, it must have been quite rude.

She pulled one of her pillows over her ears to block out the sound of the paladins’ bickering, and she must have fallen asleep almost immediately after that, because the next thing she knew, she was tangled up in the bedding prying her eyes open, shaking off remnants of a dream she was already forgetting.

Alteans’ sleep cycles were always shorter than humans’, but it still felt like too short a time had passed for her to naturally be waking up already. Allura blinked in the darkness of her room, trying to figure out what had roused her, when a knock at her door answered the question for her.

She sat up, shoving the bedding aside before climbing to her feet. She crossed the room on tiptoes, the floor really too cold for her to be walking about without slippers, and pulled open the door, expecting to see one of the paladins on the other side, and waking further in surprise when it wasn’t.

Instead, a mage stood in her doorway, perfectly straight and still, the blank of their face where their eyes should be fixed firmly on her own. “Erm,” Allura said, “Can I help you?”

Only the mage’s arm moved, the sleeve sliding down to reveal a hand gloved in the same tight, stark-white material as the head, reaching out and taking Allura by the wrist.

_“You are needed downstairs.”_

The voice didn’t come from anywhere on the mage’s face, and in fact wasn’t quite a voice at all. The words entered Allura’s head with no pitch or volume or tone, nothing to indicate what they sounded like aloud, but still somehow reverberating in her mind the way a sound would; the voice-not-voice had clearly come from the mage, but seemed to have also come straight from Allura’s own mind.

“Erm,” Allura said hesitantly, “All right, I’ll - I’m needed right now?”

 _“It is urgent,”_ the mage said - thought - transferred? It was confusing, the way they were communicating.

Although the communication method was irrelevant right now. Allura’s eyes widened. “Urgent? Should we wake the other paladins?” She glanced back into the room, wishing she had brought her staff. She had told the paladins to leave their bayards in the Lions, but depending on what was going on, they could have time to grab them. Unless the Lions themselves were needed, in which case, they definitely needed to get the other paladins up, right now -

The gloved fingers tightened around Allura’s wrist. _“Only you. You are needed downstairs.”_

“But why am I - ?”

_“Come with me.”_

And suddenly, things became clearer. The worry over what urgent matter she was needed for, the confusion, all seemed minor and silly. She trusted the mage, and she trusted Anvurn. If she was needed downstairs, then she would go. She _wanted_ to go, to follow the mage and do whatever they needed.

With a silent nod, she shut the bedchamber door behind her, and the mage turned wordlessly and began leading her down the hall. As they walked, the mage kept their hand reassuringly around Allura’s wrist, the grip light but still warm and oddly comforting.

They moved away from the guest wing, down hallways and flights of stairs, moving lower and lower. They passed the ground floor, and Allura recognized the pale gray stone and the stale chill in the air. But their path was slightly different than the one they had taken before. Instead of turning down the hall toward the mages’ labs when they encountered the long glassy window displaying the rows of cells and the prisoners they housed, the mage led her along it, down the row. A few heads turned in their direction as they passed, from the few prisoners who were awake, but that was all the attention they got before they reached the end of the hall where the mage reached out a hand to open a wide door. Their fingers only brushed the handle, but it still swung open at the touch.

Allura followed the mage into the room, and froze, the surety that the mage’s hand around her wrist had given her falling away as she took in the sight before her.

Aivu had mentioned that the mages are often brought in to work on the prisoners, to interrogate them, and this must be the room where they did it. It was darker than the mages’ lab she’d been shown on her tour, shadows lining the room, the walls occupied by shelves of vials and crystals and apparatus that Allura couldn’t begin to guess at the purpose of, with a good deal of one wall occupied by what looked to be a weapons rack; mostly polearms, it seemed, with some glowing or even sparking at their heads, and a couple topped with flails, one which seemed to be floating on its own. There were small tables pushed up near the wall, but in the center of the room, the only furnishing was a single chair, placed right under a bright white light in the middle of the low ceiling that washed over the seat like a spotlight, the only source of light in the room besides the scattered glows from the objects along the walls.

And sitting propped up in that chair, held up by the hand of a mage gripping his neck, seemingly the only thing keeping him upright going by the cloudy and drowsy look on his face, was Keith.

His clothes, still his typical day wear of black pants and shirt and boots still on his feet, were rumpled, although it was hard to ascertain whether that was because he had been sleeping in them, as he tended to do in the Castle, or if it was due to the mages having roughed him up. Which they definitely had, because even in the room’s eerie lighting Allura could see a bruise blossoming on his chin and thin red lines of fingernail scratches on his wrist, right in the same place that a mage was holding Allura’s own wrist now.

She shook the hand away as she realized it, and fixed the mage holding Keith with an intense glare. “What is the meaning of this?” she snapped. “What are you doing with my paladin?”

Keith’s eyes rolled toward her, seeming to take a moment to find her even right in front of him. “A-Allura?” he said, a slur in his voice. “What’s - what’s going - ?” He stopped to grimace as the hand around his neck shifted its hold, and he slumped, eyes sliding out of focus.

“What’s wrong with him?” she demanded. When the mage holding Keith remained still, she whirled on the one beside her. “Tell me what’s going on this instant!”

The mage reached out and took her hand again. _“You needn’t fret, princess,”_ they said. _“He is simply being calmed. He was making quite a fuss.”_

“But why are you - ?” The mage squeezed her hand, and she glanced uncertainly back toward Keith. He did have a tendency to lash out easily and be quite stubborn, so she supposed it wasn’t completely unreasonable that the mages would feel the need to sedate him for - for what? They still hadn’t explained. Allura brought up her free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose and take a breath, trying to calm herself. Her thoughts were oddly dizzying tonight. “Why did you bring us down here in the first place?”

The mages’ faces turned toward each other for a moment before the one holding Allura took another step toward her. If they’d had a mouth, Allura probably would be able to feel their breath from this distance. _“We seek only to help you,”_ the mage said. _“You have been tricked, and betrayed. We want to set things right.”_

“I already told you,” Allura said. “He didn’t trick us. We know he’s Galra, that doesn’t - ”

_“And he has made you believe that this is acceptable. He has convinced you that the blood that runs in his veins, the blood of a killer and a beast, is not to be feared. Why are you so quick to accept that? To believe that he would be the one exception to the rule?”_

“I - I wasn’t quick to accept it,” Allura admitted. “I had to learn, and it took time. But I know better now.”

“Allura,” Keith groaned, squinting to focus on her. “What are they saying to - ?” He was cut off when the mage’s free hand snaked around his head to cover his mouth.

Allura bristled at the sight. “There’s no need for - ”

 _“He has already said his piece,”_ the mage said, tightening his grip on Allura’s wrist. _“During all the time you have known of his heritage, he has been saying his piece. Arguing with you, persuading you. Drilling the thought into your head that his position as paladin makes you worthy of trust, despite being Galra. Did not a Galra once pilot a Lion of Voltron before? Are you so naive as to let history repeat itself?”_

“That was a different Galra.”

_“Many different Galra have come and gone in the millennia of Zarkon’s rule. Murderers and warmongers and traitors and spies. But never allies.”_

“We have Galra allies. They aren’t all so - ”

 _“Do you?”_ the mage asked.

“Yes. And they’ve been perfectly - ”

The mage’s hand began to slide upward along her arm as she thought about the Blade of Marmora, of the risk and sacrifice Ulaz had taken for the sake of Shiro and Voltron, of Kolivan’s willingness to assist in knowledge and resources and manpower… how eager he was to sacrifice his own fellow Blades, how little value life seemed to have in his eyes. The way the Red Lion had flown into a rage toward their headquarters, the way Keith had stumbled bruised and battered into the Castle and Shiro refused to tell any of them the full story of what had happened while they were there. The fierceness of the agents who had helped Voltron on missions, strong and imposing and able to take down their enemies as easily as slicing through air, all while remaining behind their stoic masks, never entrusting their identities to anyone, because the battle _was_ their identity, fighting was who they were.

“They’ve – they’ve been perfectly…”

Her voice faded as she stared down at Keith. He tried to say something else, but it was muffled by the hand over his mouth. No matter. Allura didn’t feel quite as concerned about anything he had to say as she had moments ago. Something was pounding in her heart, in her blood. As she looked him up and down, some of that feeling that had overcome her when first she had heard the news of his Galra blood, that revulsion, that betrayal, that hurt… it seemed to be trickling back in. Into her gut. Hardening her.

Why _had_ she been so certain that Keith had proved himself? She couldn’t quite remember. He had helped them in their missions, yes, even after they’d known about his heritage, but that wasn’t proof that he was trustworthy, that he was _good_. Zarkon had been plenty helpful for the longest time before he turned around and stabbed his team in the back. It was meaningless. For all she knew, Keith could have been biding his time, trying to regain their sympathies, get himself back into their good graces, so he could take them by surprise.

And the longer the mage held onto her, the more certain she felt that this was, indeed, the case. How could she not have seen it? How could she have fallen for Keith’s act?

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, turning to the mage. “I’m sorry, I can’t believe I – I didn’t see it.”

 _“That’s why we brought you here, princess,”_ the mage said, and Allura could swear she could almost see sympathy in the contours of their face. _“It’s something we can help with, to clear your mind of any trickery that’s been wrought upon it.”_ Their white fingers stroked the flesh of her arm, a soothing, comforting gesture. _“Before it was too late.”_

The gratitude she felt for the mage was almost dizzying, and her legs were unsteady as she turned back toward Keith, whose eyes were darting back and forth between her and the mage, an emotion in them that Allura couldn’t quite pinpoint. _“Treachery,”_ the mage suggested, and Allura didn’t stop to wonder how they had known precisely what question she’d had, she just accepted the answer they gave as true.

She stalked toward Keith, hand darting out to take him by the chin and force him to look at her with eyes still drowsy with whatever the other mage had been doing to keep him sedated even as the brows rose in surprise, and the hand over his mouth slipped away as the mage allowed her to take over. Allura tilted Keith’s face back, fingers squeezing his jaw, blood bubbling in anger. “How… _dare_ … you…” she snarled down at him.

Keith’s brows drew together, and he tried to tug his face out of her grip, but Allura only tightened her hold. “What – ” he grunted out, “What are you – what are you talking about? How dare I _what?”_

 _“You know what he’s done,”_ the mage behind her said. _“Don’t let him fool you.”_

“How long were you planning to keep up your act, hm?” Allura spat. “Let us believe you were on our side before turning us over to your emperor?”

_“He’s harmed you already. He’s sabotaged you from within. How many losses has your side suffered, how many blows have they taken, that could have been prevented if he weren’t around?”_

“Allura, please,” Keith said. His voice was rising in pitch, desperation beginning to spark in his eyes as he seemed to come out of his daze even as the mage holding him squeezed his arm so hard the surrounding skin was as white as the mage’s hand. “You know I’m on your side, you _know_ that. Whatever that mage is doing to you – ”

_“Silence him.”_

Allura roughly shook Keith, but he was undeterred, and he tried to squirm in the mage’s grip, redoubling his efforts to pull away. “They’re doing something, Allura, there’s – they keep trying to – ” He let out a hiss of pain, back arching, and slumped in the mage’s hold. But he continued through gritted teeth, “They’re in your head, aren’t they?”

_“Shut him up. He’s trying to make you waver. Show him you have the power here. Discipline him.”_

Allura released her hold of Keith’s jaw, and his sigh of relief was short-lived as she followed with a fierce backhand that whipped his head sharply to the side. When he rolled it forward again, red was bubbling up from where the skin had broken on his cheek. “Allura – ” he groaned.

“Shut up!” she cried. “I’m done being tricked by you! Haven’t you said enough?! Haven’t you _done_ enough?!”

“What the hell _have_ I done?!” Keith spat back.

 _“He’s hurt you,”_ the mage said, their head leaning in toward her over her shoulder as if they were whispering the words right into her ear. _“He’s caused you so much grief.”_

“You’ve been hurting this team all along!” Allura shouted. “Sabotaging us and tearing us apart!”

“What are you – ?”

The mage’s fingers brushed down her back, trickling through her hair, as memories came to the surface of Keith running off on his own during missions, disobeying orders, instigating arguments with Lance, snapping and shouting at the others in the bridge, leaving the group during team-building exercises or bonding sessions to stomp off to his room. It was so obvious. So clear what he had been doing. All those times they’d brushed him off as being simply rash or closed-off, thinking nothing of it, he’d been creating friction, pounding cracks into Voltron’s foundation and waiting for it to crumble.

Allura could feel tears stinging her eyes as she struck out her hand again. Keith braced himself for it this time, but he still yelped in pain as the hit connected, and his nose was bleeding when he turned back to her this time. “Please, Allura!” he cried. “Whatever’s going on, you have to fight it, you’re not – ”

“Don’t you _dare_ tell me what to do,” Allura snapped. “Not after all you’ve done! To the team, and to me! It’s not fair, it’s not _right,_ my father’s legacy tainted by a – ”

_“A traitor. A lowlife. A mutt.”_

“A monster,” she finished in a growl.

Keith winced, shrinking away and further into the second mage’s grip as Allura hovered over him, his eyes dropping from her gaze. “Allura – ” he said, voice wobbling.

“I told you to shut up!” Allura shouted. “Gods above, even now, all you do is push and rebel and ruin!”

 _“You need to make it clear to him,”_ the mage told her. _“A monster doesn’t learn through talk, princess. Only through punishment.”_

“Only through – ”

_“He needs to be punished. He needs to be put in his place. He betrayed you, and he needs to pay the price for it.”_

Something drew her eyes toward the rack of polearms on the wall. Distantly, she could sense the mage behind her holding her by the waist, physically turning her toward it, but the rest of her was so certain that she was being drawn there on her own, some turn of fate guiding her toward an action she had to take. _Had_ to.

She moved toward it as though drifting, her vision tunneling in on the weapons rack and her hand reaching out almost without her even bidding it to, wrapping tightly around the handle of one of the weapons and bringing it down. She gazed at the wrought metal at the end, glowing yellow as if she’d just pulled it from a roaring fire but pulsing in a way that told her the source of the heat was a distinctly magical one, twisted into the same shape she had seen seared into those prisoners behind the glass.

It was the mark of someone who had committed a crime that was unforgivable.

With determination, Allura whipped back around toward Keith. His eyes widened as she approached, the glow of the branding iron reflecting off the Galra violet of his eyes, his chest heaving under the mage’s arms with quickening, panicked breaths. “Allura, wait,” he said, his voice crackling. “You – you can’t seriously – ” He was cut off with a hitch of breath as the mage moved their hand to his hair and yanked it back, tilting his head back with his chin jutting out. With their other hand, they pulled at the collar of Keith’s shirt, and Allura could hear the threads snapped as it stretched and tore, leaving the whole of his collarbone exposed.

“Please, you can – you can fight this…”

The hand of the first mage was back on her arm. _“Fight_ him, _princess. He’s trying to get in your head. Show him you won’t be tricked again.”_

She would. She would show him.

With a roar of exertion she lifted the iron and plunged it toward the exposed skin of Keith’s chest and neck. The brand hissed as it hit flesh, and smoke, a magic red mixed in with the gray, curled up from around the twisted metal as she pressed the metal in.

All of her focus was on the brand, everything else around her washed out, so the harsh sound that shoved its way through the fog and into her ears seemed almost otherworldly for a long moment before she was able to place it as a scream. She’d heard Keith shout before, been there when he was injured on missions or in training, but he had never let out a sound like that before. Maybe all those other times had been fake, him trying to garner sympathy from his teammates or make them believe he was devoted enough to their cause to allow himself to come to harm. And this time, he was in real, actual pain.

 _“Ignore it,”_ the mage told her. _“He does not deserve your pity.”_

Of course, they were right. This was only justice. Allura set her jaw and tried to block out the sounds of Keith’s screaming as she pressed the iron deeper. The sharp, foul scent of burning flesh assaulted her, and at the edges of the wrought metal she could see the skin blackening beneath the brand’s glow.

Something about the sight tugged at her mind, and for just a moment she felt her determination flicker. Her ears rang from Keith’s screams, raw and ragged and unrestrained by his usual pride and stoicism. A part of her that she couldn’t quite reach tried to get her attention, to point out that this was so unlike her. This was cruel, this was –

 _“It is not torture,”_ the mage argued before she’d even finished the thought, and the hint of guilt that had pricked at Allura vanished. _“It’s okay, princess. This is only justice. A punishment for his heinous crimes.”_

It was okay. The mage said it was okay, so it was okay.

_“Make him hurt, princess. The way he’s hurt you.”_

She clenched her teeth anew and pressed the branding iron harder, but even as Keith’s screams shook the walls of the room thoughts were intruding, ones that the mage tried to help her shove away, to keep her from being distracted or deterred by errant musings, but that still broke through. Wasn’t this why she hated the Galra? Because they took such delight in causing others harm? Wasn’t Altea better than that? If she gave in to the urge to hurt Keith in this way…

_“This is different. It is not harm for personal gain, or cruelty for cruelty’s sake. It is simply righting a wrong.”_

This was different. Of course it was.

Was it?

_“Do not let doubts plague you. You are stronger than that. Voltron is too strong to allow this to go on.”_

Her father had once told her that mercy requires more strength than vengeance.

_“And your father is gone, he and all the first paladins of Voltron, vanquished by a beast that overpowered him.”_

She hadn’t told the mage that. How did they – ?

 _“And now you let the very same beast replace him, destroy his legacy and dishonor his memory? You cannot allow that. You cannot waver. He is a monster._ You can defeat him. For Voltron’s sake, for Anvurn’s sake. For the sake of the universe.”

Her arm was hurting. The mage was squeezing it so tightly. Desperation was palpable through their thoughts, if not visible on their face. They were losing control.

Of what, Allura thought. They hadn’t been controlling anything. They were only helping. Helping her see –

Helping her see…

She wasn’t seeing, though, she wasn’t looking. Some force kept trying to bring her attention back to the heat of the iron, telling her to ignore all else, ignore the screams, ignore the struggling of the creature she was hurting.

With great effort she pulled her eyes up, toward Keith’s face. It was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and teartracks, bangs plastered to his forehead and stark against his ashen skin. There was blood trickling from his mouth; he must have bitten his lip at some point, or his tongue. And his eyes were wrenched shut, forehead creased from the force of it, and his lashes were wet over the pink rims of the eyelids.

Even as Allura watched, Keith’s screams grew hoarser, throat no doubt raw by now and Adam’s apple bobbing as the shrieks were replaced by haggard breaths, and as they faded, his eyes opened, and it seemed to take all the strength Keith had left in him to meet Allura’s gaze.

The eyes bore into hers. A horrid, Galra purple, seeming to shine as the glow from the single light overhead reflected off the pooling tears. Galra blood pumped in the violet of those eyes, and yet –

_“Don’t lose your focus, princess. Remember what he is.”_

What he is…

He is scared, she thought.

There was fear in those eyes. Anguish. Heartbreak. She’d seen it before, hadn’t she, when Keith had returned to the Castle after the Trials of Marmora, and he and Shiro had explained what had happened to him there, what they’d learned. And Keith had watched Allura, waiting to see how she would react. She hadn’t reacted well. And he’d fixed her with those same eyes, although now the emotions were even more pronounced. More raw.

Pain had a way of bringing down walls.

Something else was there too, something that had been there the last time as well. Not hopelessness, not quite. Something weaker than that. Resignation, perhaps. As if this were inevitable. Like he knew that he deserved it.

Did he deserve it?

_“Princess – ”_

Her head was pounding, vision spinning. Everything was so muddled. She couldn’t –

_“You can’t falter now.”_

She couldn’t do this. Her arm hurt so much, and the stench of the burning skin was so bad –

_“You must power through it. For the universe, you must destroy the monster.”_

But those weren’t the eyes of a monster.

Those were –

_“Stop doubting me, princess.”_

Those were the eyes of her teammate.

 _“Stop_ fighting _me.”_

She was supposed to fight for her teammates.

Because her teammates were not monsters.

Gods above, her head hurt so much.

_“Stop – ”_

With a gasp of effort, she pulled away. The branding iron hissed as it left Keith’s skin, and her shoulder nearly wrenched out of place as her arm was yanked free of the mage’s grasp.

For a moment, all was quiet.

And slowly, slowly, the world stopped spinning. The fury drained away, leaving her shivering and weak-kneed and tired, so, so tired. Her heart hammered as her eyes darted around the room. The mage watched her silently, perfectly still, their hand still curled in the air as if they hadn’t moved at all even as she had shoved away from them. The other mage, the one still holding Keith, was just as unmoving.

Keith…

Allura could feel the blood drain from her face as she stared at him. He was barely conscious in the mage’s hold, his breathing audible and raspy and teary, and Allura could see a faint tremor in him too. And that mark – that mark that spread down his neck toward his chest, blackened at the edges but otherwise a raw, fiery red. She had done that, she realized with nauseating dread. She had been so _furious_ , so certain that he had betrayed her, had hurt the paladins. The thoughts lingered still, but they faded and drifted as she realized that those thoughts weren’t her own.

She tore her eyes away from Keith and over to the unmoving mage.

Her shaky grip on the branding iron tightened.

And with a roar of outrage, she charged toward the mage.

They were fast, so much faster than she would have expected from how still they had been before now, silently moving out of the way as deftly as if they were being carried out of the iron’s path by the air itself. Still Allura swung the iron, tears stinging her eyes, fury only growing each time she missed.

“How – _dare_ – you!” she cried. “You wicked, despicable _wretch_ , assaulting my mind like that, abusing your magic to _hurt_ – ” The iron burned through the threads of the mage’s sleeve – “To _torture_ – ” Finally the iron struck true, only glancing off of the mage’s shoulder, but it seemed to hit hard enough that she was sure it hit the skin after it burned a hole through the fabric – “A quiznakking _paladin of Voltron!”_

The mage stumbled, bringing a white hand up to cover the burn on their shoulder, and Allura took the chance to whirl the iron on them, keeping them paralyzed by the heat of the brand mere inches from their chin. “I’ve said my piece on the Red Paladin, but it seems you need to hear it again. He is more than worthy of every bit of trust I and all others on my team has given him. He is reckless, yes, and temperamental. But it is a recklessness borne of daring, and a temper borne of passion. Not of cruelty. There is none in the universe more worthy to fly the Red Lion. He is brave. He is loyal. And now, he is _hurt.”_

She whirled away from them, turned instead to the mage still holding the limp Keith in their grasp. “Release him,” she snarled. “ _Now_.”

The mage made no move to respond, and Allura brandished the iron again. “Release him,” she repeated. “Or I’ll have no choice but to declare your crimes against us unforgivable.”

For another moment the mage held still, then, they unceremoniously relinquished their grip on Keith, letting him topple to the ground.

Allura tossed the branding iron to the side, relieved to have it out of her hands as she practically dove to the ground to grab Keith. Unsurprisingly, he had lost consciousness entirely, and her arms shook as she scooped him up as gently as she could, grimacing at the sickly gray tone his skin had taken on and the raggedness of his breathing, and trying desperately not to focus her sight on the agonizing burn emblazoned across his collarbone.

A finger brushed against her arm, and she jumped away, shaking the mage’s message – insistence that she was making a mistake – out of her head before it could take hold, and turning her furious gaze to them. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled. “Don’t you dare lay a finger on me, or on Keith, or on any of my team ever again. Try it one more time, and I will kill you. Do you understand me? I. Will. Kill. You.”

Slowly the mage drew their hand back, indicating that they had gotten the message, and Allura got to her feet, cradling Keith’s limp form in her arms and stalking toward the door, pausing only long enough to turn her head over her shoulder and tell the mages, “The only monsters in this room tonight are you,” before taking off.

The walls and furnishings of the palace passed by the edges of her vision in a blur, her feet guiding them back to the guest wing and working more on instinct than memory, moving with no conscious thought from Allura. She felt as though she were viewing from overhead, disconnected from the world so she could pour all her focus into Keith, watching every breath as though wanting to remember every detail of it, as though each one could be his last. Walls were up in her mind, blocking out thoughts that she couldn’t handle now – fear that the damage from the brand was too severe to undo, white-hot fury toward the mages, confusion over what all this meant for Voltron’s alliance with Anvurn, and more than anything, guilt. Guilt over her own involvement in Keith’s torture, over the fact that she hadn’t been able to fight the mage’s hold on her until too late.

She blocked it all away, and in what seemed to her to be mere ticks she was pounding at Shiro’s door with her foot, arms too busy with Keith to knock properly. Shiro soon emerged, dressed in his own Anvurnian nightclothes and scrubbing sleep from his eyes with his flesh-and-blood arm, but all fatigue vanished when he took in the sight before him.

Before he had time to even ask one of the thousand questions warring on his face, Allura spoke, asking him to fly them back to the Castle, half-demanding, half-pleading. Shiro didn’t hesitate, not even stopping to get his armor or helmet before he was leading the way out of the palace. Allura wondered if Shiro had memorized the route, or if he was letting instinct lead him too. Or perhaps the Lions had noticed the distress and were guiding him towards them.

Either way, they sped through the palace, ignoring those few palatial residents up and about in the corridors even at this late hour, who stared with undisguised curiosity at the mark on Keith or ordered them to halt. In no time flat they were climbing up into the Black Lion’s cockpit, Shiro slipping into the pilot’s seat and looking oddly small in pajamas rather than armor, Allura settling onto the passenger bench behind him with Keith draped over her lap.

Distantly she could feel the Lion take off and hear Shiro’s voice on the comm, alerting Coran that they were returning to the Castle ahead of schedule and to ready a pod. She remembered that she would have to relay a message to the other paladins soon too, to let them know where half their team had vanished off to, but that could wait; it would be a few vargas yet before any of them were likely to wake.

Once Shiro had finished speaking to Coran, the comm clicked off and left the cockpit in silence for several ticks before Shiro took a deep breath. “So,” he said. “You gonna tell me what happened to Keith?”

Allura’s lip wobbled, and she focused on Keith’s face rather than Shiro’s as she began speaking. Every detail she could remember, starting from the explanation she had received about how the mages’ magic worked and how they dealt with the prisoners in the palace, to Aivu pulling her aside during the fellowship meeting, to when the mage had roused her from bed and brought her to that horrid room. And then, what had happened there. What the mage had put into her head. What she’d said to Keith. What she’d done.

Shiro was silent when she finished, and when she looked up, she saw that Shiro was still facing the Lion’s viewscreen rather than her, but she could see in the stiff set of his back and shoulders how tense he was. She didn’t want to imagine the look on his face right now. “Shiro?” she said. “I – I’m so sorry. If I’d had any idea working with the Anvurnian mages would put Keith in danger, or – or if I’d been in right mind when I was – when they were – ”

“The cryopods,” Shiro interrupted her. “How quickly do you have to get someone into a pod after an injury to prevent scarring?”

Allura swallowed. “It, er, it depends. On the type of wound, and how deep it is.”

“I see.” He said nothing else, and soon they were in the Castle, Black coming to a jolting landing in her hangar that nearly threw Allura right off the bench. In a daze she followed Shiro in descending the ramp and passing Keith off to Coran, who was already waiting with a stretcher.

Keith must have been starting to regain consciousness by this point, because he groaned as he was shifted onto the stretcher, and she could see flickering movement behind his closed eyelids as they all raced toward the med bay, where one of the cryopods stood with its door open, signals on the screen beside it indicating that it was ready for its next occupant. A cryosuit awaited him too, and Allura made sure to turn around and close her eyes as Shiro and Coran removed his boots and pants and his torn and bloodied shirt; she could at the very least spare him the indignity of her watching him be stripped after everything else he’d endured at her hands tonight.

She didn’t turn back around until she heard the vacuum-like whoosh of the cryopod door closing, and she watched as the lights of the pod turned on and the translucent blue-green fluid bubbled into the chamber, submerging Keith and filling the pod to the stopped before it stopped, the quiet it left filled only by the machine’s beeping as the others stared at his slack face.

Coran was the first to break the silence, saying he’d better get a message off to the other paladins to inform them of the situation. “Should I tell them to join us at the Castle once they’re awake?” he asked. “Or should they stay for a meeting with the Anvurnians.”

“There might not be a meeting to stay for,” Shiro growled. “Not if this is the sort of thing they condone.”

Coran pursed his lips, glancing uncertainly between Shiro and Allura, then flicking his eyes back to Keith. Of course, he didn’t know what had actually happened, just that Keith was hurt. Allura found that she didn’t have it in her to explain it all again, so she let his unasked question go unanswered.

“Right,” he said, after the pause had dragged out for too long. “We should get in touch with Anvurn’s chancellor as well, then, give them, ah, your decision. What… what precisely should I tell them?”

“Just get Aivu on a call with me in the bridge,” Shiro said, and the angry edge to his voice made it perfectly clear just how well he expected this call to go. “I’ll deal with her while you message the other paladins.”

“Very good, very good,” Coran said with a nod. “Princess, is, ah, is there anything else you need? Anything you want to get done, or, erm, want me to do?”

A tick passed in silence before Allura shook her head. Her gaze was still fixed on Keith, and she took a step back and slowly lowered herself onto the lowest step on the little basin of the medbay. A heaviness filled her as she sat, and she was certain she would be unable to get back up again. Not until Keith was healed at least.

Coran said something else, but she suddenly found herself far too tired for it to be anything more than a buzz in her ear. Soon, the shadows of the other two occupants of the med bay left, off to their tasks, and she was left alone with Keith.

All she could do was stare up at him. The myriad apologies rolling through her mind, biding on her tongue, would have to wait until he was out, when he would be able to hear them, and they all seemed to grow in urgency as she waited, memories of the night and how she had felt and thought when the mage had gripped her and when she had gripped the iron playing out in her head over and over.

She could still smell his burning skin.

A couple of times she heard footsteps, first the clear, sharp taps of Coran’s feet, then the heavier, flatter footfalls that belonged to Shiro. Both times the steps came and went, but the second time she heard Shiro, the footsteps grew louder and closer until they ended with him lowering himself onto the step next to her, looking drained and so much older than he had any right to be.

“We’re going through with the meeting,” he said.

He waited for a response, and Allura let out a tiny grunt of acknowledgment, nothing else.

“Apparently, the mages who were responsible for this – this mess,” he continued, “They had gone rogue to do it. Wasn’t authorized. Aivu seemed pretty shocked when I told her what had happened. I guess she could have been faking it, but – I dunno. It seemed genuine. She said they’d deal with the mages, going to remove them from their research teams and have them face criminal punishment. The rest of the palace and the other mages weren’t involved, so an alliance is still workable.”

“That’s good,” Allura said softly.

“How Keith is going to feel about the whole situation, though…” Shiro lifted his shoulders in a tired shrug. “Allies or not, I don’t think I want to let another Anvurnian anywhere near him again for a long while. Any time we need to convene with Anvurn, I say we let Keith opt out.”

“Makes sense.”

Shiro rested his chin in his hands. “His – his vitals are looking better,” he said. “I think. If I’m reading that screen there correctly. So that’s, um – so that’s a good sign.”

“The scar isn’t healing,” Allura said, her voice so quiet she could barely hear it even in her own head.

Shiro said nothing, and Allura’s voice trembled as she continued. “I thought it was going to heal at first, because some of the edges where it had gotten really dark were lightening, and the color’s not so bold now, and – and the fluid in there seems to have cleaned off the bleeding and… the oozing… but see how it is now?” She pointed a shaky finger. Over the collar of the white cryosuit Keith’s neck was visible, as was the top half the brand. The burns had healed over, but rather than the pale, almost ivory tone of the rest of his skin, the marks that had been left were a brownish-pink, their hue almost nauseating in the sickly lighting of the pod.

“The brand changed to that color a while ago. Haven’t changed at all since. I think the pod’s already done all it can about it.”

“Oh.” Shiro hesitated, then softly asked, “What did you say that mark was supposed to mean again?”

“That someone committed a crime that was unforgivable,” Allura answered. She wiped at her eyes, where tears were once again prickling to life and threatening to fall. “And apparently I decided that him being Galra qualified.”

Shiro took a deep breath, his forlorn gaze lingering on Keith before turning to her. “That wasn’t you doing that, Allura. That was the mage getting into your head, planting thoughts and feelings there. It wasn’t you.”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Of course not, Allu– ”

“I called him a monster, Shiro. I accused him of plotting to turn the team over to Zarkon. I told him he was a stain on my father’s legacy. And you know what the worst of it was? Those weren’t the mage’s thoughts. Those were mine.” She shuddered and lowered her hand, giving up on stopping the flow of tears. “Those were thoughts I had back when we’d first learned of Keith’s Galra blood. His only crime had been being born, and still I thought those things. And even after I’d apologized and learned to trust him again, I think they were still there. There have been moments where I’d see him lose control of his temper and think, if only he weren’t Galra we wouldn’t have to deal with this. Or when I’d be watching him, doing nothing but going about his day, and I’d be wary. As if I were expecting him to do something wrong and I was going to catch him in the act. Those thoughts – I barely even noticed them, but they were there. I hadn’t gotten rid of them, not really. Just pushed them down and buried them. And the mage – all they had to do was dig them up and give me enough anger to act on them. And look what came of it.”

With a choked sob, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m the monster, Shiro.”

She shook, breaths turning to hiccoughs as she cried. She knew she was making something of a scene; it was completely undignified for her to cry in front of Shiro this way, especially since she wasn’t even the one who had been injured by what had transpired. But she simply couldn’t help it, and it took her a couple of doboshes to finally stop, or at least, for the tears to abate long enough for her to add anything more meaningful to the conversation than incoherent blubbering.

“Allura,” Shiro said as she dabbed at her cheeks, the blue markings beneath her eyes warm to the touch after the surge of emotion, “Are those thoughts still there? Even after this?”

“I – ” She hesitated, wincing. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’d like to say that all doubts are gone. I _want_ that to be true, I really do. I want to trust Keith just as much as any other paladin, I don’t want there to be any resentment between us. He deserves that much. It’s just… difficult, to fully come to terms with how wrong I had been. Those thoughts – they’re like weeds. And I know I have to get rid of them, and I try my best to do so, but now that I’ve made the mistake of letting them in in the first place, the roots have gotten so deep I can’t even find them all.”

“Hmm.” Shiro’s eyes were on Keith again, not her, and there was a grimness on his face that Allura hated to see. “I can… understand where you’re coming from. But for Keith’s sake – ”

“I need to dig,” Allura finished softly. “I’ll try. As hard as I can, I’ll try. Do you – ?” she swallowed. “Do you think he’ll forgive me for this?”

“Keith’s not a grudge-holder,” Shiro said. “And this wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t,” he cut Allura off as she opened her mouth to interrupt. “The thoughts were there, but I believe you when you say you’ve been trying to overcome them. And if it wasn’t for that mage, I don’t believe you would have acted on them. Especially not like this.” He sighed. “But I also think he’ll need a bit of time to come to terms with what went down.”

Shiro’s human hand moved up toward his own neck, fingertips brushing the skin where there was now a hideous brand on Keith’s skin. Allura wasn’t even sure if it had been a conscious action on his part.

The two of them had that in common now, she supposed. Both bearing marks that told the universe that they had been through an ordeal they hadn’t deserved.

If Allura had thought such an action would actually be of any help to Keith, she would have gladly turned that branding iron on herself.

Their conversation tapered off there, and Allura and Shiro sat waiting, watching silently as time ticked by. Coran was in and out of the med bay a couple of times, checking on the cryopod’s progress, but he didn’t do anything else to interrupt their vigil. Normally he would recommend that everyone get some sleep when one of their teammates was undergoing a healing cycle in a pod, but this time he probably realized it would be useless. Allura’s guilt would be that much worse if she left Keith now, and Shiro, protective older brother that he was, would never get a wink of sleep so long as Keith was still in the pod. So he let them be, allowing them to simply watch Keith as the lights of the ship began to brighten as it began its day cycle.

Shiro finally stood then, looking reluctantly toward the door of the med bay. “I figure you’re not going to be up for meeting with the chancellery, so I can take over for this morning if you want.”

“Thank you,” Allura said.

“If Keith comes out of the pod before we’re done, tell him the team will be back as soon as we can. I’ll try to wrap the meeting up as fast as possible. After what happened to Keith, they’ll probably not be doing much haggling if they have any decency. You’ll let him know we’ll be coming?”

“I will,” Allura promised, and then she was once again alone with Keith.

Alone, that is, until Coran came back to check the pod, and informed her it was about to finish up, and the cryopod would be opening in just a couple of doboshes. Allura had half a mind to leave, to hole up in her bedroom for the rest of the day and not have to look Keith in the eyes until the image of her, in a snarling rage pressing a magical branding iron into the crook of his neck, had time to fade, but she doubted it ever would. Besides, right now she owed Keith far more than her absence.

So she was the one who stood in front of the pod as its door slid open, and it was into her arms that Keith fell when he toppled forward, weary and unsteady and cold from the pod’s cycle. His brow furrowed immediately – by this point he’d probably simply been accustomed to Shiro being the one to catch him when he finished a round in the pod – and Allura’s heart broke when, after he looked up to identify the owner of the unfamiliar arms, his eyes widened and he pulled away, stumbling back into the pod. “A-Allura,” he stammered, and she was dismayed to hear that even after the cryopod trip, there was still a scratch to his throat, evidence of having screamed his throat raw mere vargas before. “Princess. What – what are you – ?”

“Keith,” Allura said, keeping her voice as soft and non-threatening as possible. “Please, don’t – don’t worry. It’s over. The mages are being dealt with, and you’re safe. I promise.”

Keith’s eyes flicked to Coran, who stood away from the pod, looking like he didn’t quite know what to do right now. Allura understood the feeling. “Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re wrapping things up on Anvurn,” Allura answered. “Finishing up that alliance meeting.”

“They’ll be back soon, Number Four,” Coran added. “They’re trying to get things done as quickly as they can. If we hadn’t needed at least one team member with a head for politics to attend, I don’t think Shiro would have set foot out of this med bay until you were all healed up.”

“Oh,” Keith said. “Right. Healed up.” He lifted a shaky hand, and Allura bit her lip, feeling the tears starting up again as he brought it to his neck and felt the tender skin of his brand.

“I’m so sorry,” Allura said, her voice practically a whisper. “I am so, so, so sorry Keith. I tried to get you here as fast as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough to keep it from scarring.”

“Oh,” Keith said again. His face was so tired, his expression almost hollow.

“I fought it, Keith. Like you told me to. I just didn’t fight it soon enough, and – and you had to pay the price for that, and you shouldn’t have, Keith. It was awful. Everything I said to you was awful, and that brand, that godsdamned brand, I can’t even wrap my mind around how awful it is. I’m sorry. I – I can never say it enough. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Keith hesitated, expression wavering as he locked his wide eyes on her own. “Don’t – don’t be sorry. I never – I didn’t _mean_ to hurt the team, I swear, I didn’t – ”

Allura let out a wordless cry, and anything she’d tried to keep in mind about how Keith would need his space right now was out the window as she darted forward to wrap Keith in a hug, gripping him like a lifeline. “You didn’t, Keith, I promise,” she sobbed. “You didn’t hurt the team, you didn’t betray us. You’re not a monster. Everything I said to you, it was wrong, it was wrong, wrong, wrong. You did not deserve what happened, what I said, what I did, anything that those mages said to you. You didn’t. And, ancients, that horrid brand, you certainly didn’t – ” She swallowed. “Do you – did they tell you – ?”

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “They said my crimes were unforgivable.”

“Gods,” Allura whispered, tightening her embrace. “It’s all so wrong. And I can’t believe I – I let them convince me – I should have fought harder. Right from the start, I should have thought. You never should have had to have heard anything like that. You certainly shouldn’t have endured – have had to go through – ” Her sob hitched and she pulled back, not abandoning the hug entirely but giving herself enough space that she could see the brand. “You shouldn’t have that – that _thing.”_

“So it, um,” Keith started, voice trembling, “So it’s there for good, then?”

“I’m sorry,” Allura said again. The words were less than useless, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I, um, I see.”

“The mark is there,” Allura said, “But – but the meaning doesn’t have to be. You’re not a criminal, or a traitor, and a mark doesn’t change that. It could be – it could be marking you as a warrior. Or as someone who endured something terrible but made it out the other side. Or – or – ” She took a breath. “I could promise to never, ever hurt you, and to not let anyone else think any less of you because of your blood, and any who tries has to answer to me; it could be a reminder of that. I know it doesn’t fix what happened, but – but maybe it could – ”

“Maybe it could help,” Keith finished in a mumble.

“Right. That. And in the meantime, um, anything you need. If you need some time to yourself to process everything, or if you need me to call up Aivu and make her let you shout every insult you can think of at those mages of hers until you’re all out of air. Anything, I can do it for you. I just want to make things right.”

“Um, thanks,” Keith said. “Right now, I just, um – just need a moment.”

“Of course,” Allura said, as Coran piped up to say, “Take all the moments you need, lad.”

Keith shut his eyes, taking several long, deep breaths before opening them again and saying, “So, this means I’m not – you don’t really think I’m unforgivable?”

“Oh, Keith,” Allura said, pulling him back into the tight embrace. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

“But I – ”

“Your Galra blood is not a crime, Keith. It is not a fault, and I’m sorry I ever made you feel otherwise. It is not a mistake that needs to be forgiven. It informs who you are, but doesn’t define you, and it has its weaknesses, and it has its strength. It’s – it’s part of you.”

She brought her face up to stare at him, to meet those purple, Galra eyes that had brought her back from the brink and given her the push she’d needed to fight off the mage’s hold. “You’re our teammate, Keith. You wouldn’t be Keith without every part of who you are, and that’s okay. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She let out a trembling breath as she finished, and waited for Keith to respond. When tears began gathering in his eyes too, she felt a sense of dread, certain that she had done something wrong and only upset him further.

But instead, to her surprise and relief, he returned the hug.

And as they stood there in the med bay, wrapped in each other’s arms and crying openly onto each other’s shoulders, she could feel those last lingering doubts, those last trace thoughts that had tried to insist to her that Keith was an outsider, that he couldn’t be trusted, shrivel away.

They were gone. This time, she knew that for sure.


End file.
